


Must Be Magic

by brideofquiet



Series: What's for Dessert? [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Established Relationship, I mean the tiniest hint of a plot but it's largely an excuse for sweetness, Is Commitment a Kink, M/M, Object Insertion, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 03:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11592087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brideofquiet/pseuds/brideofquiet
Summary: There’s no other explanation for what he’s staring at except some convoluted practical joke. If retail’s anything like food service, the employees here have to keep themselves entertained somehow. He checks for a security camera pointed at the aisle—the guards in the back are surely laughing at his slack jaw and wide eyes.Why else would this be here, between the hairbrushes and shampoo? Maybe someone fucked up inventory, but Steve’s pretty sure Walgreens isn’t supposed to sell sex toys anyway. Right? That’s not a thing. Steve would definitely know if that were a thing.





	Must Be Magic

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this a series now because I have no self-restraint about anything ever. It's not necessary to have read the first work for you to understand this, but as the person who wrote it, I recommend that you do.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking with me.”

Steve looks to his left up the aisle, then whips his head to the right. It’s empty besides him, which means there is no one around to confirm whether this store is indeed fucking with him or not. He’s leaning toward a yes though, based solely on the evidence before him.

There’s no other explanation for what he’s staring at except some convoluted practical joke. If retail’s anything like food service, the employees here have to keep themselves entertained somehow. He checks for a security camera pointed at the aisle—the guards in the back are surely laughing at his slack jaw and wide eyes.

Why else would this be here, between the hairbrushes and shampoo? Maybe someone fucked up inventory, but Steve’s pretty sure Walgreens isn’t supposed to sell sex toys anyway. Right? That’s not a thing. Steve would definitely know if that were a thing.

And yet, there it is, silver and shiny under the fluorescent lights. It bubbles out into spheres and narrows in five sections above a bright teal handle. It evens comes with a glove.

Steve steps closer and grabs the plastic box for a better look. He squints at the label, trying to make sense of why the fuck this is here and—oh. Oh sweet god.

It’s a curling wand.

“No goddamn _way_ ,” he says, full volume. A lady shuffling down the aisle huffs and turns away sharply. Must not be a local if that bothered her, Steve thinks, pulling the box off the shelf to flip it over.

 _Unique Bead-Shape Barrel_ , it reads.

Nope, that confirms it. This thing is definitely an anal toy. That’s all there is to it. The company has cleverly marketed it as a curling wand to get it into people’s homes long enough for them to start eyeing it funny after too many glasses of wine. Their endgame is to get everyone who buys one to discover the joys of anal penetration and thus make the world a happier place.

At only $18.99, Steve can hardly pass up an opportunity to get in on their plan. Even if he already knows all about how much fun it is having stuff up your ass. They can never say he didn’t support them.

He tosses it in the basket with the rest of his items and heads toward the checkout.

The cashier eyes his short hair when she rings him up. “Girlfriend?”

Steve hisses a laugh. He tilts his head and glances down at the wand. “Nope. Boyfriend.”

Her expression is bafflingly blank when he looks back up. He cocks an eyebrow—surely she has _some_ clue. When she picks the wand up to scan it, she eyes it curiously. Steve sees it the moment she catches on, her cheeks lighting up flame red. She hurries through ringing him up and even forgets to ask if he has a member card.

 

Back at the apartment, Steve puts his purchases away and pulls on some lounge clothes from his drawer. He’s just finishing cleaning up the kitchen when the lock turns in the door. He puts the last few glasses away as Bucky comes inside with a, “Hey, Steve—oh, you know you don’t have to do that.”

Bucky hangs his keys on the hook by the door and dumps his bag on the couch before heading toward the kitchen. He tries to look stern, but there’s a smile barely concealed behind it. Steve shuts the dishwasher and shrugs.

“I dirtied up half the dishes,” he says. It’s true. He’s here more often than he’s not, since Bucky’s apartment is significantly closer to campus than his. Bucky had a key made for him a few weeks into the fall semester and told Steve he was free to nap here or whatever between classes, whatever he needed. Tried to be real damn casual about the whole ordeal, but that idea got blown out of the water the second he decided to put a little _bow_ on the key.

Closer to campus, yeah, which is very helpful in the hellscape of senior year—but also he’s gotten pretty used to sleeping with someone else in the bed. Specifically with Bucky in the bed, who is a total blanket hog, but Steve has absolutely no problem stealing them back and forcing Bucky to cuddle with him when he inevitably gets cold.

Bucky pushes Steve’s bangs back where they’ve fallen into his eyes, smile breaking through properly. Steve smiles too and hooks a finger in the belt loop of Bucky’s slacks to urge him forward. Bucky meets him for what Steve expects to be a quick hello kiss before Bucky goes to change.

He really ought to stop being surprised by Bucky constantly subverting his expectations at this point, but it still throws him off for half a second when Bucky grabs him by the hips and seals his lips over Steve’s. Steve rolls with it though—far be it from him to stop his boyfriend from kissing him stupid on a Thursday afternoon.

Bucky presses him back into the counter and begins a slow exploration along Steve’s jaw and down his neck. Fuckin’ Magellan over here or something, Jesus _shit_ —

“Hey, Buck?” Steve gasps.

Bucky makes a sound that is either an acknowledgement or a moan against Steve’s pulse point.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Steve says, carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair, “and generally excited about what’s happening. But—”

Bucky nips at his earlobe. Steve whines and breaks off, forgetting what the rest of his sentence even was. Probably unimportant anyway.

“Time to pop that bottle,” Bucky murmurs into his ear.

Steve freezes for a moment and then flails in his grip. His gets his hands on Bucky’s chest and shoves him backward enough to look at his face. “You’re joking!”

“Nope,” Bucky says, grinning wide. “Stark personally offered me a permanent position after my internship’s up.”

“Way to bury the fucking lead, Bucky!” Steve tackles him into a tight hug.

“Oh, I’m certainly going to bury something somewhere tonight,” Bucky purrs, holding Steve close against him.

Steve ignores the joke because—well, obviously. Oh, but wait till Bucky sees what he brought home for him. Extra fun congratulatory sex is definitely on the table—which, hey, there’s an idea.

“I’m so proud of you,” Steve says. Bucky’s been working his ass off this fall between finishing up his final semester—the nerd’s graduating early, of course—and working an internship in the R&D department of Stark Industries. Another reason Steve stays over so much—they’d hardly get to see each other otherwise, they both work so much. Bucky with his internship, mostly doing grunt work in the robotics lab but occasionally getting the chance to show off some of his own ideas, and Steve still serving while teaching art classes to kids at a local gallery too.

They bought the champagne over a month ago, with the promise to drink it if Bucky got hired permanently at SI. Looks like that cork’s finally coming out.

“You tell Sam yet?” Steve asks, disentangling himself from Bucky to get the bottle from the fridge.

“Nah, he and Nat are still on their ‘friend-cation’ and I figured it could wait,” Bucky says.

“I hope they know they’re fooling absolutely no one at all,” Steve laughs. Whatever, at least they’re too involved in their own bullshit to bother sticking their noses in his and Bucky’s. That’s what they deserve after all that gossiping—each other.

“Hang on, don’t open that yet,” Bucky says. He lays a hand over Steve’s where he’s poised to pop the cork. “Will you order some takeout while I go shower? I smell like robot grease.”

“Sure, what do you want?”

“Surprise me,” Bucky calls over his shoulder as he heads toward the bathroom.

“Oh, I will!” Steve says, thinking about what he left sitting incredibly conspicuously on the counter.

The Italian place up the block overcharges, but they deliver quick as hell. Steve’s already plating their pizza by the time Bucky wanders out of the bathroom, tangle of wet hair dripping onto his bare chest. Steve is nearly too busy watching the way his sweats cling, deliciously precarious, to his hips to notice what’s in his hands. _Almost_ , but he has a sharp eye. He had purposely set the thing on the bathroom counter to engineer this exact moment.

Bucky holds up the wand, looking vaguely horrified. “What the hell is this?”

Steve smirks as he sets their plates on the table. “What do you think it is?”

“Well,” Bucky huffs. He laughs uncomfortably. “The label says it’s a curling wand, but I think I’m gonna have to call—” he squints at the label and rattles off the company name “—and claim false advertising.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Bucky follows Steve into the kitchen, setting down the wand to get glasses out. Steve grabs the champagne. “So why’d you buy it?” Bucky asks.

“Well, sugar, we’ve been having sex for a while now,” Steve teases, “and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re both pretty into butt stuff, so—”

“ _Steve_ ,” Bucky cuts over him. He thumps Steve in the shoulder, his face flushing pink. So funny how he does that, goes from blushing schoolgirl to absolute vixen between seconds. Steve never knows which one he’s going to get from him, but he loves both. He just likes pushing his buttons, no matter what the vending machine pops out.

“So you want this inside you?” Bucky asks, eyeing the wand again. He strokes one finger down the smooth length of it and glances up at Steve. Steve can see the cogs whirring in his head, his eyes going dark.

“I mean,” Steve says, “you’re the one who just took half an hour to shower, so you tell me.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open just as Steve pops the cork on the champagne.

 

“Is this like, safe?” Bucky asks. “This is safe, right?”

“It’s not plugged in, Bucky,” Steve says, petting at the smooth cheek of Bucky’s ass with his free hand. With Bucky folded up like this, knees wide and belly on top of his thighs, he’s completely on display. Steve swats his ass, and Bucky yelps.

“Just don’t want my asshole to like, catch on fire or anything,” Bucky says.

“That’s been my plan all along, to incinerate your insides so we can’t have sex for weeks.” Steve rolls his eyes and slaps him again for good measure. This time Bucky whines and wriggles his hips, lifting them up a few inches. Steve pushes him down again with a hand on the small of his back. He leans in to kiss his spine and murmurs, “I’m not gonna hurt you, Buck.”

Bucky snickers.

 “Okay, well, I’m not going to burn you,” Steve corrects. One hand still wrapped firmly around the handle of the wand, he slides his fingers back inside Bucky just to make sure he’s still nice and open for him. His body gives under Steve’s touch easily. Bucky’s breath hitches as Steve strokes at his rim before pulling his fingers free.

He’d lubed up the wand a minute ago, so he quickly replaces his fingers at Bucky’s entrance with its rounded end. Steve presses it against his skin, dragging it up and down the cleft of his ass. Bucky stays still for him, one eye just visible where he has his cheek pillowed on crossed arms. Steve spreads his asscheeks wider with one hand and starts to push the first knob of the wand inside him.

Bucky keeps his eyes on Steve’s, and Steve sees it when they start widening. He presses in more insistently, and Bucky’s mouth falls open around a gasp when the first section slips past the ring of muscle and inside. Steve twists his wrist, rotating it inside him. Bucky raises an eyebrow—which, alright, challenge accepted.

He doesn’t go slow with the next section, driving it inside him in one sharp motion. Bucky hisses, visibly clenching around it, but he relaxes again quickly enough. Steve works the two sections already in him with shallow, quick thrusts. There’s something about watching the silver shape push and pull at his hole that goes straight to Steve’s dick, where it’s already hard between his legs. Or maybe it’s the little noises Bucky is making, biting his lip to hold them back, his back arching and bowing in slight movements.

Could be that it’s just the Bucky of the whole situation that’s turning him on. Whatever.

He pushes the next two knobs inside him, and Bucky stretches out like a cat on the mattress. His hands curl around the bars of the headboard as he rocks back against the toy—because that’s what it _is_ , not a fucking curling wand. This thing is a sex toy, and as skeptical as Bucky had been, he is absolutely eating it up.

As Steve twists and drags it inside him, Bucky groans and presses his face into the sheets so it’s hidden. That simply won’t do. Steve leans over his back and grabs him by the hair, jerking his head up so he can see him again. It just so happens that it changes the angle of the wand inside him, and Bucky cries out. Steve slides the last section into his ass and watches as Bucky’s eyelids flutter, like he’s trying to keep them open but can’t manage it.

He’s open enough now that Steve can slide the toy in and out of him with ease. Each sphere still catches and pulls at his rim. Bucky’s breath comes in gasps and sighs as Steve slips it deep inside of him and then pulls it back out. Steve cranes forward to kiss his cheek, and Bucky turns his head to make it a real kiss. Their mouths meet, Bucky’s lush beneath his and too open for it to be much of a kiss at all. Steve’s dick drags over the swell of Bucky’s ass as he sucks at his lips. They moan against each other as Steve twists the wand inside him again.

“Feels good, huh?” he breathes into Bucky’s ear.

“Guess it’s not,” Bucky pants, “the weirdest thing we’ve done.”

“Nope.” Steve lets his hair go, and Bucky slumps back down against the pillow. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll curl your hair with it. Becca’s always begging to see what it’d look like curled.”

“Don’t bring up my baby sister while we’re having sex, you fucker,” Bucky mutters, squirming under his hands.

“I’m your fucker.”

“Yeah, you better be here in a minute or we’re gonna have a problem.”

Steve cackles, and he can see Bucky grinning from what’s visible of his profile. Jerk think’s he funny. Well, Steve knows how to show him.

He tugs the wand free and tosses it on the floor with a clatter. It needs a proper cleaning anyway. Bucky gives a pleased hum and adjusts his hips, inching his knees wider and sinking lower over his heels. Steve slides his hands down his muscled back, the skin soft under his touch. As he palms Bucky’s ass with one hand, the other sneaks around his hip to grip Bucky’s dick where it’s been hanging neglected, leaking onto the sheets. He thumbs over the head and gives it a few firm pulls, Bucky shuddering and sighing beneath him, and then lets it go.

He takes his own dick in hand, stroking it as he lines himself up. As Steve has discovered, there are several—as many as eight—perks to dating someone exclusively. They’d stopped using condoms two months ago, which ranks pretty high up there on the list of perks. That and everything else about dating Bucky, but he’s not here to be sentimental right now. He’s here to fuck his boyfriend till he screams or professes his love. Steve’s not picky about it.

Because he’s not a terrible tease like Bucky, Steve pushes into him with one steady stroke. Bucky moans and buries his face into the pillows again, muffling his sounds. Steve isn’t sure why he does that—Bucky has to know by now that Steve loves hearing him. He knew he could be loud as hell sometimes, but it wasn’t till they’d been sleeping together for a month that he realized that Bucky could absolutely _wail_ if Steve fucked him right. He always tries to bite it back though, digging those teeth into his perfect lips, always tempting Steve to grab his chin and hold his mouth open.

As it is, he crawls forward till he’s laid over Bucky’s back, hips flush together.

“You know I like hearing you, Buck,” he says against his shoulder blade. He grinds into him languidly, Bucky rewarding him with a sharp inhale. It’s not enough though.

“I’m so proud of you.” Steve raises up onto his hands for better leverage, pulling nearly out before driving back into him. It takes three more sharp thrusts to rattle Bucky enough for his lower lip to slide free. He whines in the back of his throat, eyes screwed up tight, as Steve keeps up an unhurried pace.

“I just want to know I’m treating you right, sugar,” Steve says. “You deserve to feel so good. How will I know if you don’t tell me?”

Bucky pushes back against him, his sigh pitching lower into a moan by the end of it. His mouth hangs wide open, open as he is for Steve sliding into the slick heat of his body. Steve rises back up onto his knees and grasps tightly at the hinge between his torso and hips. His thumbs dig in hard enough to bruise as he picks up the tempo, sharp hipbones smacking against Bucky’s ass with each one.

His thrusts start to force little noises out of Bucky. Each impact coaxes a grunt or a groan from his mouth. When Steve changes his angle, he must hit the right spot inside him—Bucky moans exquisitely loud. His head tips sideways to rest in the crook of his elbow, and he gives in to it. He feels so good under and around Steve, and each time he cries out, it reverberates through him so much that Steve can feel it too.

Steve leans forward to grasp Bucky’s dick again, and that’s when the words start.

“Steve, _Steve_ ,” he says. “You feel so good, fuck— _oh_. Oh, that’s it. Don’t you stop. Never stop, god, you’re so—”

He breaks off with a throaty moan. This is Steve’s favorite part—besides every other part. Hearing him babble like he can’t help himself, hearing him let go like this, knowing that Steve is the one to get him there. The flush on Steve’s skin darkens. He keeps rolling into him.

“Never, never,” Bucky picks up again, “love your dick so much, love you—”

Does Steve get a prize for making him scream and confess his love? There should be a prize for that.

Bucky collapses forward, hiding his face again. He’s still talking, muttering something into the sheets, but Steve can’t make out the words as well. All he catches is _move_ and _me_.

“Was pretty sure you would’ve noticed by now,” Steve says, “but I’m moving in you already, Buck.”

“ _No_ ,” Bucky mutters into the sheets, emphatic enough to be recognizable.

“Then what?” Steve asks, curling over his back again. Bucky squirms underneath him, his cheeks bright with color, the rest of his face still obscured in the tangled mess of sheets. He shakes his head back and forth.

“Tell me,” Steve commands, fucking into him insistently. He still holds Bucky’s dick in one hand, not stroking him anymore but thumbing at his slit. “Spit it out.”

Bucky whines and turns his head, eyes fluttering open now that Steve can see them. His own face hovers inches above Bucky’s, staring down at him expectantly.

Bucky meets his eye. “Move in with me,” he murmurs.

Steve stills inside him. “What?”

Bucky twists under him. Steve starts to move away to let him free, but Bucky grabs his arms and holds him in place while he flips onto his back. Steve’s dick slides free of his body, but Steve is decidedly too preoccupied to notice—much.

“You should move in with me,” Bucky repeats. His breath is shallow with nerves, but his tone is sure. “You’re here all the time anyway, and my lease is up next month. I know you’ve already looked into subletting your place—”

“Hey,” Steve admonishes.

“You used my laptop to look it up, Steve. Not exactly private,” Bucky reminds him.

“Fine.”

“I like coming home to you. I like it when you just come in without knocking," Bucky says. He reaches up to cup Steve’s cheek, smiling tenderly. “Waking up with you is the only way I want to start my day. I like having you around. You could go so far as to say I love you.”

Steve smacks his chest and burrows into his neck. “Love you too, you sappy shit.”

Bucky threads his fingers into Steve’s hair. “What do you say, Steve?”

“You mean it?” Steve asks against his skin.

“Of course I do.”

“This ain’t just your dick talking?” Steve asks, sitting up to look at him.

“If anything, it’s yours.” Bucky laughs, and Steve swats at his hands when he tries to tickle him. “But no. I mean it. I’ve been thinking about it—there’s a one-bedroom for lease a few floors down if you wanted somewhere bigger. Even then it’d be less than what we’re each paying now. I talked to my landlord, and she said she’d give it to us.”

“Shit,” Steve says. He sits back on Bucky’s thighs. “You really have thought this through.”

“I’m serious about you, Steve,” Bucky says.

Steve smiles down at him, his face doing the wobbly thing it always does when Bucky gets like this. Even now he can’t fully wrap his head around the way Bucky feels about him—or how he feels about him in return, for that matter—but he’s figured out how to stop questioning it now. Went through the fucking ringer to do it too, but here they are.

“Guess we’re practically living together anyway,” Steve shrugs, feigned nonchalance even as his stomach flutters nervously. “We might as well put it on paper.”

“So that’s a yes? You’ll move in with me?” Bucky asks, biting down on his grin.

“Yeah, you dummy, I will,” Steve says. He grips Bucky’s chin and wrests his lip free, all so he can claim it for himself. Bucky surges up to meet him for the kiss.

With Bucky’s ankles crossed behind his back, Steve slides back into him. It doesn’t take long now, both of them already riding an emotional high so that their orgasms send them into the goddamn stratosphere when they hit one right after the other. Bucky does wail, his nails biting into Steve’s shoulders. Steve cries out too when he comes deep inside him. It takes him over so he sees stars, Bucky’s hands pawing at his face now, bringing Steve back to him.

In the middle of the night, he trips over the wand on the way to the bathroom.

 

“We’re getting a puppy,” Steve announces.

“Yeah, and raise it with what free time?”

Steve picks up the pen. “I’ll be a stay-at-home dad.”

"Are you forgetting you’re allergic to dogs?” Bucky smirks at him from the other chair, propped up with one elbow on the desk.

“I’m allergic to everything,” Steve says. “I’ve got meds.”

“Maybe we should start with a goldfish and work our way up,” Bucky says.

“Fine, fine,” Steve grumbles.

“Sign here.” The woman across the desk indicates several lines on the page, hiding her amused smile behind one hand.

Ten minutes later, they walk out of the office with keys to their new apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not condone inserting curling wands into any part of your body. Listen to any podcast and I'm sure you can find a discount code for Adam and Eve. 
> 
> I love comments and kudos like Steve and Bucky love pretending things are not the things that they are and then using them in bed. Come say hi on [tumblr](http://bvckyisms.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
